


Holler If You Hear Me

by halfsweet



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Allusions to Subspace, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Patrick Stump, Library Sex, Lingerie, M/M, Top Brendon Urie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 22:28:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14657517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfsweet/pseuds/halfsweet
Summary: The campus library, or rather, its quiet room, is quite legendary, but not for the right reason.Oh, no. The quiet room isneverabout the books.The quiet room is about a test of willpower. A test of self-restraint.And that’s where Brendon’s bringing him. The quiet room.





	Holler If You Hear Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [I_Dream_In_Electric_Blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Dream_In_Electric_Blue/gifts).



> inspired by a story told by my cousin. and @I_Dream_In_Electric_Blue helped to make this happen!
> 
> (unedited)

Their class has just finished for the day, and as soon as the professor dismisses them, Brendon grabs his hand and pulls him to a direction that he knows oh-so well. The campus library, or rather, its quiet room, is quite legendary, but not for the right reason.

Oh, no. The quiet room is _never_ about the books.

The quiet room is about a test of willpower. A test of self-restraint.

And that’s where Brendon’s bringing him. The quiet room.

He swallows, nervous as the building gets closer and closer and bigger and bigger. He pulls the hem of his—Brendon’s—sweater down until it reaches his thighs. Sweat begins to form on the back of his neck, but it’s not even hot out.

It’s the anticipation, the thrill of what they’re about to do sends chills up and down his spine. Brendon’s palm is rough on his skin, calloused and hot and has just the _right_ pressure on his wrist.

Brendon tilts his head back to look at him, and he flushes at the look in Brendon’s usual cheery brown eyes. They have a glint in them—the kind that can make people obey him in just a second, or maybe that’s just him—and he can’t help but cast his gaze downwards to avoid looking into them. Even though they’ve been together for a little bit over a year, he can never seem to get used to that look.

But that’s not to say he doesn’t like it. Oh, no. He _loves_ it. He loves what’s going to happen when the look appears, and he loves the aftermath of it all.

Brendon lets go of his hand when they enter the library, both of them running their student card on the scanner to get past the door. Once through, his hand is grabbed by Brendon again as they continue to walk, the anticipation now overwhelming him from head to toe.

He glances around the library. The staff are all behind the counter, and the main section in the library only has a bunch of students. They maneuver towards the back and downstairs, then between the long tables and chairs. He turns his head to the left, making a quick headcount of the people in there.

Five.

That’s good. The lesser the better. And the best part is that he doesn’t know them, and they don’t know him. He doesn’t need to see any familiar faces while they’re down here.

His hearts nearly jumps out of his chest when they reach a section with many doors that lead to cubicle rooms. They’re here. They’re _finally_ here.

_The quiet room._

He’s heard about it, but he never thought they’re real. He thought they were just myths made up by the seniors before them.

Huh. Maybe he should have come to the library more often.

His pulse is still racing as Brendon opens the door and ushers him inside, and he reluctantly drops his bag on the floor, trying to pull himself together while he’s at it.

They’re really doing this, aren’t they?

He jolts at the sound of the door clicking close, and then Brendon’s arms are wrapped around him. If his heart weren’t beating at the speed of light before, then it sure is now.

Brendon is pressing light kisses to the back of his neck, nuzzling and taking a deep breath before nipping just below his ear. He fights off the shudder that vibrates throughout him. It doesn’t help that Brendon knows and is hitting all of his weak spots.

“You nervous?”

He bites his lips, stifling a whimper as his legs are beginning to turn into jelly. “N- no.”

Brendon hums as his hands roam over to his front, playing with the hem of his sweater and teasing at the skin under it. “You ready then?”

He’s ready. He can do this. _They_ can do this.

With a deep breath, he turns around and slides his hands up Brendon’s chest before looping them around Brendon’s neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. He teasingly sinks his teeth on Brendon’s lower lip as Brendon’s hands settle on his hips, thumbs slipping in his belt loops.

Brendon walks them backwards towards a long table that spans out from one end of the wall to the other end, and he lets out a small gasp when his lower back hits the edge of the table. He’s running out of air, but right when he tilts his head back to breathe, Brendon chases his mouth, pulling him into another kiss.

His fingers trail down to Brendon’s shoulders, gripping at the fabric of his hoodie as Brendon lifts him up onto the table. He finally gets to breathe when Brendon moves to kiss down his jaw and neck, and he rests his head against the wall, panting and trying to get oxygen into his lungs again.

He looks up at the ceiling with one hand buried in Brendon’s thick hair, lightheaded. They have only just started, and he’s already feeling like he’s standing on the edge. Brendon has that effect on him, but he’s not complaining. Brendon knows what he’s doing. Brendon knows what he needs with just a glance.

Most importantly, Brendon _delivers._

Brendon is definitely unlike the few guys he dated or had one night stands with. They were all talk but didn’t bring anything on the table. He came, he had fun, but that’s just it. With Brendon, though, he didn’t _just_ come; sometimes he even felt like he just transported into a different universe.

He returns back to Earth when Brendon is tugging at his sweater to pull it off. As the chilled air of the air-conditioner hit his skin, he opens his eyes in alarm.

_“Holy shit.”_

Now that his sweater is off, he finally remembers that he didn’t wear _just_ Brendon’s sweater and jeans for that particular occasion. No, underneath the sweater, he’s also wearing a sheer white lacy cami with thin straps, a soft blue ribbon adorning the piece in the center of the chest.

He remembers receiving it as a present from Gerard in the form of a white box and a small card that only had a wink inside it. He had no idea what it was then, but he once he saw what it was, he immediately stashed it at the back of his closet where it never met the daylight.

Until now, that is.

Brendon pulls him up to his feet and takes slowly spins him around, and he feels like a doll on display, not that it’s a bad thing. He always wants to look good for Brendon. Brendon always treats him so perfect that he wants to do the same thing to Brendon, too.

The cami has an open back with a blue lacy back bow, and Brendon’s tracing faint patterns on his skin before he feels Brendon’s mouth kissing his shoulder, slowly making its way down his back. He places his hands on the table to keep himself upright, a shuddering breath escaping his lips as Brendon’s hand wanders to unbutton his jeans.

“Brendon.” He whispers, swiveling his hips to get Brendon’s hand to where he desperately needs it to be. “Bren—”

He squeezes his eyes shut as a moan slips from him, but he bites his lips just in time. He can’t afford to make a single sound while they’re in the quiet room. Scratch that, in the _library._ Where his voice will most definitely carry throughout the entire floor, if not the building.

Brendon has his hand on his crotch, teasing and squeezing his rapidly-hardening cock. His legs are shaking, and his breathing is getting shorter and faster as Brendon continues to kiss all across his back, occasionally nibbling here and there.

He lets out a small whimper when his jeans are unbuttoned and unzipped, Brendon’s hand slipping inside to cup him properly through the—

His eyes open in protest when Brendon takes his hand out and spins him back around, confusion filling his eyes as his jeans are tugged all the way down to his ankles.

He pulls his lip between his teeth at the look on Brendon’s face and clasps his hands behind his back, pushing his hips forward slightly. “Do you like it?”

“I—” Brendon gapes, his eyes still fixated on the blue lacy panties on him. “Babe, have you been wearing this the entire time?”

He nods and averts his gaze downwards. Brendon’s stare on him, while often makes him feel confident, makes him feel insecure this time. Did he do the right thing, wearing the cami and the panties? “F- feels weird, but good. Good kind of weird.”

“It’s good.” Brendon agrees, then leans in to press kisses on his neck. “Looks good on you. You look like an angel.”

He moans, both at the words and the feeling of Brendon’s rough stubble scratching his skin and places his hands on Brendon’s shoulders. God, that feels _so_ good.

“My angel.” Brendon moves up to kiss him on the lips, tongue licking at the seam for entrance as he lifts him back up on the table. “My beautiful angel.”

His fingers grip onto Brendon’s shirt as he tries to keep all the little sounds in. Brendon’s warm hands are on his bare arms, holding him and engraving handprints on him. One of Brendon’s hands moves to his lower back and the other moves to his shoulder, fingering at the strap before slowly sliding it down his arm, exposing his chest.

“Brendon.” He breathes out, still managing to be calm and steady and quiet. Then, he jolts with a gasp, one hand flying to clutch at Brendon’s hair when he feels Brendon’s mouth on his nipple. _“Brendon.”_

His jaw clenches to muffle his groans. Brendon is flicking his tongue over his nipple, grazing his teeth and sucking as his hand plays with the other nipple, pinching through the lacy fabric. All the sensation is becoming overwhelming too quick, and he can feel his cock throbbing and leaking pre-cum, soaking the front of the panties.

The cold air in the room doesn’t help his situation. In fact, it makes the situation worse instead. His nipples are becoming even more sensitive, and every slight move from Brendon can bring him further and further to the edge.

And they haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.

When Brendon’s cold fingers slip under his cami and rolls his other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he immediately covers his mouth as he lets out a loud mewl, his back arching into the touch. Eyes squeezed shut, he has one hand in Brendon’s hair and the other over his own mouth as he’s trapped between the wall behind him and Brendon, who is mercilessly teasing his nipples.

Warmth has pooled between his legs, gradually building pressure with every movement from Brendon. It’s getting difficult for him to breathe, especially now that he’s covering his mouth to prevent any sound from coming out.

Restrained whimpers and moans seep from between his fingers, and he releases his grip from Brendon’s hair to place his hand over the one that’s already covering his mouth. God, he swears it’s like Brendon’s trying to get him to make noises as loud as possible.

Brendon finally leans back, a thin string of saliva hanging between Brendon’s lips and his nipple. Just as he thought he can take a breath or two, Brendon moves to the other nipple, nibbling.

He presses his hands down on his mouth even tighter as his breath his getting more erratic, lungs constricting. A loud groan manages to be quiet down before anyone outside the room can hear it.

Trails of goosebumps follow as Brendon’s hands slide down from his sides to his hips, and his fingers hook to the sides of the panties, slowly sliding it off his legs. He pulls his knees up to ease the movement as he toes his shoes off.

The shoes fall with two quiet thumps on the floor. Brendon manages to get the panties off of one leg, but leaves it dangling on his other leg by the ankle. Brendon leans in again, their bodies pressed flush together, and connects their mouth in a wet kiss.

He tugs at Brendon’s hair and pulls Brendon’s head back, loving the sex-dazed look on his boyfriend’s face. Loving the dark pupil swallowing the deep brown in his eyes. Loving the shine on his pink lips. He loves that he can make Brendon like this. He loves that he can make Brendon go crazy.

Then Brendon breaks their gaze when he reaches down for his bag, fishing out a bottle of lube. He twirls it in his hand, a mischievous smile dancing on his features. “You ready?”

Not trusting his voice, he nods and bites his lips, watching Brendon pour a generous amount on his palm. A blissful sigh escapes between his lips when he feel Brendon’s wet hand on his cock, stroking at a steady pace and with a firm grip. He pulls his knees to his chest, folding himself in half as he closes his eyes, reveling in the feeling of Brendon’s hand on him.

“You should wear like this more often.” Brendon whispers, nibbling at the skin just under his ear. “Under your regular clothes. In public. Where no one knows but you and me.”

His lips part to make way for a soft whine, not loud enough to be heard, so he doesn’t bother covering his mouth. “Faster.”

Brendon chuckles as he speeds up his hand, thumb digging into the slit every time he reaches the tip. He grits his teeth at the feeling. “Will you, babe? Wear this in public?”

When Brendon pinches at the tip, he immediately slaps his hands over his mouth just as he makes a loud gasp.

“Will you?” Brendon repeats, his low voice never failing to make his stomach flutter.

He looks into Brendon’s eyes, wide and pleading as fountains of moans and whimpers stuck in his mouth and behind his hands. He closes his eyes and nods fast, feeling like he’s going to come at that instant if he maintains eye contact with Brendon for another second longer.

His eyes are only open when he feels a cool liquid being poured over his hole, and his heart rate begins to increase as he bites his lip. Brendon’s fingers traces around the rim, teasing, pushing in but never past the first knuckle.

“Brendon.” He whines and pushes his hips forward to get Brendon’s fingers inside him. The last thing he needs is for Brendon to drag this out for, say, another half an hour while in _public._ “Brendon, please.”

“Love it when you beg.” Brendon murmurs against the skin on his neck as he pushes two fingers in, twisting them and crooking them against the wall.

He clamps his hands down on his mouth as he squeals; Brendon always knows where to touch him to get the reaction that he wants. His whole body is trembling with pleasure, and he finds himself slipping further away.

More noises flow from his mouth, stopping just behind his hands but getting louder with each stroke and press Brendon puts on his prostate. His hands are getting tired from being bent at that awkward angle, but he knows the second he pulls his hands away from his mouth, Brendon will not hesitate to make him _scream._

As much as he wants to, he doesn’t want to, of course. Not while they’re in public.

“You gonna make a sound, babe?”

He shakes his head frantically, breathless and eyes still shut. He’s not going to make any sound. He can hold everything in. He can win this challenge.

Right at that moment, Brendon’s fingers curl inside him at the same time Brendon mouths at his nipple. He lets out a moan, loud enough that the sound is able to pass through the small gaps between his fingers and echo throughout the room.

He squeezes his eyes shut, begging for Brendon to stop teasing him and start fucking him. He feels like he’s about to explode any second; his cock is already wet, pre-cum just oozing and dripping out onto his stomach, forming a small pool on it.

“Brendon!” He yelps through his hands when Brendon twists at his nipple, pulling and tugging at it. He opens his eyes, glazed and shiny as he pleads to any God that can hear him to give him some self-control. Just a little more. He can hang on for a little while.

Once Brendon pulls his fingers out, his legs fall, and he takes the chance to catch his breath. His leg muscles are screaming in pain, and he might even have a cramp, but at least he can take a break, even for a second.

A second doesn’t last long enough, clearly, when Brendon grabs his ankles and places them on his shoulder before winking, then proceeds to buries himself inside him to the hilt. He grabs Brendon’s face and kisses him to muffle the oncoming moan that’s sure to be loud enough to be heard from the outside.

Brendon pulls back when he’s all the way in and smirks. “Try to keep the panties on.”

Confused, he looks past behind Brendon’s shoulder and notices that the panties is still hanging by his ankle. Before he can say anything, Brendon has already started to move his hips, thrusting in and out of him at a steady pace.

A gasp leaves his lips. He forms a fist with his hand and brings it to his mouth, biting on it to keep any sounds from coming out. His back hits the wall with each movement; there might or might not be bruises later, but it doesn’t matter at the moment. All that matters is Brendon is inside him, always hitting the sweet spot and never missing once.

He bites down harder when Brendon delivers a particularly hard thrust, Brendon’s low grunt vibrating deep into his skin and igniting the bomb within him that’s about to go off. Brendon’s pace turns faster, his thrusts becoming deeper and stronger and he digs his nails into Brendon’s back to keep himself together for a little while longer.

“God,” Brendon groans into his skin, “you always feel so good.”

He whines again, a high-pitched sound that indicates he’s just right on the edge, and Brendon knows it. He’s biting so hard into his fist that he’s sure his teethmarks would stay for a few days. He can feel Brendon’s pre-cum trickling inside him, and they both aren’t that far from their own releases.

“You gonna cum, babe?”

He nods, the pressure and heat in his groin has reached its maximum and now it’s just waiting for the countdown to reach zero. Brendon pulls him close, their sweaty foreheads touching and hot breaths mingling together, and he opens his eyes to look into Brendon’s dark and hooded ones.

Another rough thrust, and the pressure explodes.

Brendon grips his hair and pulls his head back, his screaming reverberating throughout the room. The feeling is so intense, like someone just pushed him off of a cliff and down to the ocean below with a splash, and he fell _so_ deep into the ocean that he nearly blacked out.

Wait, he _did_ black out. For a while, because when he comes to his senses again, Brendon is caressing and kissing all over his face, gentle and loving, and his hole is clenching on nothing but Brendon’s cum that’s leaking out.

“You okay?”

He smiles even though his brain is still hazy. Brendon looks so good, tousled hair and glistening body and warm eyes. He can’t believe Brendon is _his_ boyfriend. In fact, he can’t believe Brendon is _real_.

“You’re _real_ . Like, you’re a _real_ person. You _exist._ ” He lets out a breathless laugh as he reaches his hand out for Brendon. _Brendon’s a real person._ His boyfriend is a real person!

Brendon chuckles, cupping his jaw and kissing him softly. “I guess that must be really intense for you. You back to Earth now?”

He nods and attempts to lift his leg where the panties is still dangling from his ankle. Brendon holds his leg, smiling as his fingers leave feather-light touches on his thigh and down to his calf and ankle, and pulls the panties off. Then, Brendon uses it to wipe the mess off of him.

His eyes focus on the small piece of clothing in Brendon’s hand, and he lets out a whine. “You ruined it. Now I don’t have any underwear to wear.”

“Go commando, baby.” Brendon huffs a laugh as he pulls him forward until his back is straight, then gives him a quick kiss when they’re face to face. “It would be easier for us when we go for round two later.”

Mind finally cleared out of the after-sex haze, he scoffs and gestures for Brendon to reach for his sweater strewn on the floor. “You and I both know I need at least _a week_ for my ass to heal after that rough of a sex.”

“You want us to be _abstinent_ for _a week?_ ” Brendon hands him the sweater, then stuffs the panties in his bag.

“S’not like we haven’t done it before. We never really had sex until we’re two months together.” He rolls his eyes as he adjusts the cami on him before putting on the sweater. “Do you happen to bring extra—”

Before he can finish his question, Brendon has already tossed him a pair of boxers with a knowing grin. “I came prepared.”

He eyes the boxers, then furrows his brows at his boyfriend in suspicion. “You've washed this, right?”

Now it’s Brendon’s turn to roll his eyes. “Come on. I’m not that gross.”

“Sure, B.”

After he puts the boxers on, he hops down from the table, to which he immediately reaches for Brendon when a sharp pain shoots up his spine. “ _Fuck,_ that hurts.”

“Sorry.” Brendon apologizes, his tone devoid of any teasing or smugness. It warms and melts his heart at how caring his boyfriend is, despite his brash attitude.

“It’s okay. I’ll manage.” He gives Brendon a quick kiss to assure him that he has nothing to worry about and begins to put on his jeans. After they both have finally dressed up and fixed their appearances so they look like two normal students who came to the library to study instead of having sex, they walk out of the room.

Only to be met with two familiar faces.

“Patrick. Brendon.” Frank grins. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Both of their faces flush red. This is bad. The last people they want to be caught having sex in the library are Frank and Gerard. Because they would never stop bringing it up.

“You here to do the quiet challenge?” Gerard raises his eyebrow. “Because let me tell you, you lost. _Big_ time. Pretty sure the _entire_ library heard you.”

The tips of his ears burn in embarrassment. Really? Well, even if it’s true, it’s not like he’s going to step his foot into the library again.

“For all it’s worth, I think the, uh, _finale_ —” Frank shoots him a sly smirk, “—sounded like a bang. Must have been _really_ good.”

“Yeah.” Gerard frowns as he turns to look at Frank with furrowed eyebrows. “How come you never make me scream like that?”

“Because I gagged you?”

“Oh. That’s right.” Gerard snaps his fingers in realization. “Did you even bring any preparation before you do this? A ball gag? Anything to muffle your mouth?”

He shares a glance with Brendon. They’ve never really ventured to _that_ territory yet. They’ve been vanilla most of the time, and the lingerie thing is still considered new to them. “Uh, no?”

Gerard stares at them in disbelief for a few good seconds before he shakes his head, sighing. “Amateurs.”

“Whatever.” Brendon grabs his hand and side-steps Frank and Gerard. “We’re leaving.”

“Patrick?”

Oh, shit.

He nervously shifts his gaze to the source of the voice and gulps when he sees Pete walking towards them with a confused expression on his face. He promptly yanks his hand from Brendon; they both haven’t told Pete that they’re dating, considering how protective Pete can get when it comes to him.

Pete blinks when his eyes land on him. “What are you doing in the quiet room?”

“I, uh…” Shit. What’s he supposed to say? That he’s here to do the infamous try-to-keep-quiet-while-you’re-having-sex challenge in the quiet room?

“They’re studying.” Gerard quips with a wide smile. _Too_ wide, perhaps. “Patrick’s failing.”

Franks nods. “He straight-up failed, actually. That’s what you get when you take a test without preparing anything.”

He directs a glare at both of them, who smile innocently back at him. He’s going to kill them. Or maybe he’ll ask Brendon to do it instead.

No, he still needs Brendon. Wait. He can ask Pete to do it. Yeah, he’s just gonna ask Pete to kill Gerard and Frank.

Pete turns to him, frowning. “Why didn’t you come to me for help? You know Brendon’s no good at teaching.”

“Hey!” Brendon cries out, offended, to which everyone ignores.

Gerard clicks his tongue. “On the contrary, Brendon’s pretty good, actually. _Really_ good.”

“The _top_ of his class, in fact.” Frank quips in with a mischievous grin. “Patrick is way, _way_ down at the bottom. Poor guy.”

Blood rushes up to his face at Frank’s comment. He moves his hand behind his back and gives Frank the finger. A scoff from Frank tells him that Frank must have seen it.

“And Brendon’s _way_ up in the bottom.” Gerard snorts before giggling at his own joke.

Fed up with the constant teasings by Frank and Gerard, he huffs and pulls his bag up high. “Okay, you know what? Like Brendon said, we’re _leaving_.”

But even taking two steps is noticeable and a giveaway enough for anyone to piece what just happened.

Pete looks at him weirdly. “Why are you walking like that?”

“I, uh—” he clears his throat. Okay, he can come up with a lie. It’s not hard. He can lie. Straight to Pete’s face. Yeah. “Fell. From the stairs. On my way down here.”

Gerard stifles a snorted laughter, and he elbows Gerard in the ribs and glares at him. He doesn’t need Gerard to blow his cover.

“Yeah.” Brendon mutters from behind him. “Fell from the stairs and down on my dick.”

He lifts his foot and stomps on Brendon’s, taking delight at the groan of pain coming from him. Serves him right. Brendon had better hope that Pete doesn’t hear him, because if Pete does, they are _never_ having sex again. Ever.

Like a month, tops.

Pete seems to believe him enough, and that’s a good thing. He doesn’t need Pete to commit homicide or him to be charged as an accessory to murder when Pete finds out what they’ve been doing.

“Oh, hey, Trick, I need to borrow your notebook. I’ll give it back to you after class tomorrow. I got a test tonight.”

Before he can open his bag, though, Pete has already grabbed the bag from him and opened the zipper, and he can almost feel his soul escape his body as Pete rummages the inside of his bag.

Oh, dear Lord. Please don’t let Pete find anything else in the bag.

When Pete’s eyebrows begin to furrow, his face contorting into puzzlement, the last of his soul leaves his body and goes down, _down_ to hell.

Because he’s going to kill Brendon. And Gerard. And Frank.

“Uh, Trick?” Pete pulls his hand out from the bag with the lacy panties dangling between his thumb and forefinger. “ _Why_ do you have this?”

His lips go dry. Oh shit. _Oh shit._ What is he supposed to say?! “Uh… that— that’s not—”

Pete looks at him, eyes widening with a dirty grin. “Wow, Trick. I didn’t know you have a girlfriend.”

He hears Frank’s quiet scoff from behind him. “Girlfriend? _He’s_ the girlfriend.”

Then there’s an _“oof”_ , which he figures that Gerard probably elbowed Frank for the comment. Not knowing what to answer, he just laughs nervously and rubs his neck.

“You lucky _dog._ ” Pete smirks, dropping the panties back in and pulling a notebook out. Then, he hands him back his bag. “Wish me luck. I’m gonna need it.”

“Nice panties.” Frank comments once Pete is out of eyesight and earshot. “Brendon got you those or you bought them yourself?”

He scowls, walking— _attempting_ to walk—to the stairs. “Shut up, Frank.”

“They were on sale.” Brendon exclaims with a beam in his voice. “You buy three and get one for free!”

Gerard’s jaw drops. “Do you think the sale is still on? That sounds like a good deal.”

The librarian comes over and shushes them with a glare.

“Sorry, ma’am.” Frank grins and slings his arm around his shoulders. “Patrick here doesn’t know how to keep quiet.”

“Fuck off, Frank.” He shrugs off Frank’s arm. He just wants to get away from the library, or more specifically, _Frank_ , as far as possible.

“Come on, darling. Let’s go back.” Brendon smiles as he links their hands together. He can literally feel Frank’s and Gerard’s eyes on him when he tries to climb up the stairs, and he can— no, he _hears_ their stifled laughter even when they’re already halfway up the stairs.

“You know _you’re_ the reason we failed the quiet room challenge, right?” He pouts, remembering what happened the few seconds just before the incident happened. “I could’ve been quiet if you hadn’t pulled my head back.”

“Sorry.” Brendon grins and places his arm around his waist. “You know I like to hear you scream.”

He lets out a snort but leans towards Brendon for support anyway. “‘Cause it feeds your ego?”

“Duh. Helps to keep my performance up, too. Which, in turn,” Brendon pecks him on the lips and grins, “keeps _you_ satisfied. It’s a win-for-all situation.”

Blushing, he punches Brendon in the arm lightly. “Shut up.”

Brendon does the deep chuckle that he loves so much before leaning in to his ear. “Wanna try a second time?”

He hums. “Why don’t you buy a ball gag, and I’ll buy something… _nice_ to wear?”

“Sounds like a perfect plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> wow if that's terrible, it's because i've lost touch in writing smuts oops.


End file.
